


Where He is Needed

by GreenReticule



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones-Centric, Gen, Protective Bones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenReticule/pseuds/GreenReticule
Summary: Jim Kirk is McCoy's best friend, and over the years McCoy's seen him pull some awful stunts. But the confrontation on the bridge was too far; McCoy could not serve under a man like that, best friend or not. Putting in a quiet transfer to another post seemed to be the perfect solution, until McCoy finds himself hounded by some old, obnoxiously persistent Vulcan.(Set in-between scenes of the 2009 movie)





	1. Chapter 1

“Jim, a word please?”

Breath eased into James Kirk at the question. He’d been giving rapid-fire orders to all the crew in these minutes following his securement of the captain chair, trying in turn to secure their confidence in his leadership. It was hard enough to have the captaincy turned over twice in such a short amount of time, and his aggression towards Spock wasn’t making him any friends among the bridge crew.  Sulu responded to his commands efficiently, but without the warmth of camaraderie they shared after the fight on the drill. Chekov, eager in everything, seemed to lose a touch of his energy when speaking directly to Kirk. And Uhura’s anger was radiating from her in no uncertain manner. Even Mr. Scott, despite his quips, seemed to hold Kirk at a bit of a distance.

Bones, though. Bones, in almost a reverse of Mr. Scott, would snip and complain, but in the end, Jim knew where he stood with him.

Jim looked up to his left, seeing Leonard McCoy hovering there. At the sight of his friend, Jim let himself smile for the first time since taking command, “Of course, Bones. What is it?”

The doctor let his gaze sweep the bridge and command crew, shifting his weight slightly. Jim took the hint.

“Mr. Sulu, you have the conn.”

Jim and Bones entered the turbolift side-by-side in silence. The doors hissed shut, giving Bones his cue.

“Why’d you do it, Jim?”

Jim let the lift descend to between levels before he hit the emergency stop. “Why’d I do what?”

“Antagonize Spock.”

This was certainly not the route Jim was expecting for the conversation. His nose and brow wrinkled as he looked over at Bones. “Why is that a big deal? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t, but that’s not relevant," Bones refused to return the eye contact, staring ahead at the doors. "Why did you do it?”

"I had to get into the chair," Jim winced even as the words came out of his mouth. 

That really wasn't the best way to put it, and the manner in which Bones' gaze snapped to him indicated that the man _had_ taken it in the exact wrong way. The corners of the mouth had pulled down, and his brow knitted together over disbelieving eyes. Or rather eyes that warred between disbelief and not wanting to believe.

"All that was to get into the chair? My god, man what is this? Does winning mean that much to you that you couldn't stand someone who beat you sitting in the Captain's chair? Is that it?"

That hurt. It hurt that Bones could have come to that conclusion about him. It also hurt because Jim wondered if, under different circumstances, that conclusion would have been right.

“That's not it," Jim said, trying to placate both his friend and himself. "Bones, Spock was making the wrong decision, and he wasn’t listening to me.”

“But you didn’t even think it through, did you? Just had to get a rise out of him, regardless of the consequences.”

“Okay so my throat hurts a bit, but he wasn’t going to kill me.” Jim recalled the look in the Vulcan’s eyes, and revised, “He didn’t kill me.”

“That’s not my point.”

“Look if you’re worried about my orders, I  _ have  _ a plan, Bones. You gotta trust me.”

“It was cruel, Jim.” Bones let his statement fall hard, let a moment of silence live for it to sink in. “What you did was cruel.”

Leonard McCoy was a perpetual grump, but Jim had never seen him grow cold before. But that was the look that met Jim’s own.

“Bones, I-”

“You mocked the loss of his planet. You mocked his mother’s  _ death _ .”

“Bones, I  _ had _ to! It was necessary! I had to take command, and the only way to do that was to prove he was emotionally compromised!”

Bones let Jim’s words fall as well, waiting between them. He lowered his head and gave it a shake and murmured, “ ‘Necessary.’ " When he looked up, it was not at Jim but at the lift doors in resignation.  “I’ll follow your orders, Jim. But if we survive this harebrained scheme of yours, I’m putting in a transfer. I will not serve under a captain who could ever consider cruelty a necessity.”

Bones reached over and punched in an order to the turbolift. The two men rode in silence back to the bridge.

And for the first time since taking command, Jim felt completely alone.


	2. Chapter 2

“I am relieved.”

The old Vulcan was a long distance away from the proceedings, but it was clear from Admiral Pike’s voice that he was smiling, and the Vulcan allowed himself a small indulgence in that as well. As applause broke out for the newly promoted Captain Kirk, Spock felt peace. If he allowed himself another indulgence, he could all but hear the sounds of the bridge. Sulu and Chekov working the helm, Nyota at her station, Mr. Scott’s reports, Leonard’s advice, and of course, Jim in his chair. Not everything could be the same, but at least everything was right.

The ceremony below disbanded, and Spock left his place on the balcony to join the Vulcan who had been waiting patiently for him off to the side.

Ambassador Sarek handed him a pad as he approached. “The list of Federation volunteers for New Vulcan. I assumed you would have insight on who would be appropriate for such an assignment.”

The two Vulcans, the son older than the father, wove their way through the Federation's headquarters to the Vulcan embassy, where they sat and together reviewed the list.

Spock was unsurprised but nonetheless appreciative of the number of Federation officers and cadets who were offering their services to the Vulcan colony. He recognized a number of names as he scrolled through the list. Cadets Miranda Jones and Geoffrey M’Benga were both positive additions, though Spock had expected them. After all, both had spent time on Vulcan in his own timeline for their trainings.

Then, right below M’Benga, the list did surprise him. It surprised and unsettled him in the same moment, for there among the medical professionals was Dr. Leonard McCoy.

“Are you well, Ambassador?” Sarek’s voice also caught him by surprise, and Spock realized that he had been so taken aback by this development that he had stopped his review of the list some time ago. Long enough for his father to have noticed.

Spock gathered his thoughts calmly and replied, “I was merely contemplating an unexpected development.” He paused, wondering how much he should share with Sarek.

As ambassador to the Federation, Sarek’s voice would have some weight - both in the new Vulcan colony and in Starfleet. If convinced of the importance of the act, he could request a block of Leonard’s transfer. However, that would potentially damage Leonard’s career as a surgeon in Starfleet, something Spock was unwilling to see.

But he was equally unwilling to see an  _ Enterprise _ be sent away with anyone else as the Chief Medical Officer. If it came down to it, Spock would not be able to say with confidence that he would  _ not _ seek to reverse Leonard’s transfer from Starfleet brass down. For now, fortunately, there was a more private way in order to set things right.

“If you’ll excuse me, Ambassador,” Spock rose from his seat across from Sarek, who had been watching him curiously since his initial inquiry. “This development requires my personal attention.”

Sarek raised a questioning eyebrow, but left his query unvoiced. Instead he simply dipped his head in farewell, “Ambassador.”

It would not take long to locate Leonard’s quarters, and between that moment and the moment he would wait outside the Doctor’s door, Spock allowed himself a small, if illogical, hope: perhaps Leonard would be in a listening mood.


	3. Chapter 3

McCoy had stayed at the ceremony long enough to congratulate Jim, but slipped away into the crowd before the kid was able to ask him to stay on as CMO one last time. McCoy’s answer wouldn’t change, but he didn’t want to see the way Jim’ face went flat when he was trying to put on a brave or polite face. So the last memory McCoy had of Jim would be the smiling, newly minted captain. Maybe they’d meet up again somewhere down the road, have a drink, exchange stories.

He kept that thought in his mind as he returned to his quarters and began packing. This wasn’t a good-bye forever; just some distance.

A chime at his door interrupted his thoughts and his task. McCoy eyed the door with a degree of suspicion; that had better not be Jim…

He glanced briefly through the peephole and instead of the bright-eyed captain, an elder Vulcan waited just outside his threshold.

Confused, McCoy opened the door, “Hello?”

“Doctor McCoy,” the Vulcan said by way of greeting, and if McCoy didn’t know better, he may have thought that the he sounded pleased. “May I have a word?”

“Of course.” McCoy stepped back from the door to let the Vulcan in.

He looked strangely familiar: perhaps one of the refugees he had treated on board the  _ Enterprise _ , but there was no name the McCoy could place.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” he said as his guest stepped into the center of the room to observe the decor of an apartment that was in the process of being abandoned.

“I saw your name on the list of Federation Aid Experts to the Vulcan colony,” the Vulcan replied, turning to face McCoy. “I’d like to discuss that assignment with you.”

An official visit? Assignment confirmations or dismissals didn’t happen like this.

“What do you need to know, sir?” McCoy asked.

Was that a flash of amusement McCoy saw on the Vulcan’s face? Couldn’t have been. A trick of the light. Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by the usual, alien solemness.

“I need to know why you chose to give up a promising career as Chief Medical Officer on the  _ Enterprise _ for a subordinate position on New Vulcan?”

Well that got personal awfully fast.

“...is there an issue with my request?”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow - dammit, McCoy knew him from  _ somewhere _ \- and said, “Not in terms of technicality; you are qualified. However, the list of volunteers for this assignment is not wanting, and you already have a desirable post. So logically, there must be an additional reason to this request of yours.”

“Oh, ‘logically,’ eh?” McCoy couldn’t keep himself from scoffing. “Logic” or no, he wasn’t about to discuss his personal reasons behind-

“You are protecting someone.”

...He wasn’t wrong. 

If McCoy had requested transfer to a different ship, there’d be questions. There’d be critical eyes cast towards Jim, something McCoy didn’t want, especially since Spock seemed to bear no ill will towards the captain. But how in the blazes could this Vulcan have known that?

“Your face does not hide your emotions well, Doctor.” The dark eyes latched onto McCoy’s. The intensity of the stare had McCoy reminding himself that Vulcans were touch telepaths; there was no way his guest could read his-

“Is it Jim?”

“Okay, out,” McCoy blurted, stumbling to add “sir” as a paltry means to cover for his rudeness. “I’m sorry, but I have packing and research to do before the trip to the Vulcan colony. I hope that we can discuss this later, at a less urgent time.”

He wasn’t sure which unnerved him more - the fact that he was so transparent to the Vulcan or the fact that the Vulcan used the informal “Jim.” Either way, he wanted his surprise guest out of his apartment immediately. A want that said guest refused to accommodate.

The Vulcan did not move or even turn towards the door. “I doubt that your hope is as you say, and the urgent timing is exactly why I must speak to you about this assignment. You are ill-suited to a position tending primarily to Vulcans.”

Beyond the pale, that what this green-blooded busybody was. Barging into his apartment, telling McCoy how to run his life, prying into personal matters, and now insulting his profession.

“Is that so?”

A raised eyebrow met his challenge, “The fact that you are offended at my statement of another fact is proof alone. You would not get along with an entire colony making similar observations. You are an excellent doctor, but you rely a great deal on making emotional connections with those you tend, a practice which is fulfilling and helpful to both you and your patients. However, Vulcans will not reciprocate such efforts on your end, as they do not need it.”

“But they do need doctors! And no matter what you may say about your race’s stoicism, it would help,  _ emotionally _ , to have someone who was there when the planet died. Someone who was able to empathize at least in-part with the shock. You say that Vulcans don’t need emotional help, but I tended the survivors. I saw their reactions. I saw their pain. I saw Spock’s outburst-” McCoy snapped his mouth shut, and the Vulcan’s eyebrow arced even higher. 

Trying to cover up his aborted statement, McCoy pressed on, “Point is, there  _ is _ a place for emotional support for Vulcans, and I can learn to-”

“Was Jim the cause of Spock’s outburst?”

There he was again with the informal use of Jim’s name. Rankled, McCoy growled, “That’s not related to my point. What I was saying-”

“But it may be related to mine,” the Vulcan interrupted again. “Was Spock’s outburst the result of James Kirk revealing the commander’s emotional compromise related to the mission? … I’ll take your silence as a yes. Is this event the reason for your transfer request?”

There were so many things McCoy wanted to say. He wanted to defend Spock’s reaction - it was only natural. But other Vulcans, like the one before him, might judge the first officer harshly for any hint of emotion, let alone a violent response to a bully. But to defend Spock would be to throw Jim under the bus, and as much as McCoy disagreed with Jim’s actions, the young captain was still his friend. His closest friend at that.

“I requested the Vulcan assignment because I saw a need.”

“That is your reason for choosing  _ this  _ assignment, but not the reason for the transfer itself. Why did the confrontation between Jim and Commander Spock affect you in this manner?” the Vulcan paused for a moment before answering his own question. “If it is Jim you are protecting, then you must have disagreed with his actions to the point where you felt you could not serve under him. Am I correct?”

“Will you stop interrogating me!”

“Your anger suggests a defensiveness, which indicates that I am indeed correct, or very near correct.”

“Stop _psychoanalyzing_ me!”

“Would it help you be more open with me if I told you that I was the one who instructed Jim to provoke Spock into an emotional outburst?”

Whatever McCoy had intended to say died in his throat as he stared at the Vulcan. This man ordered the mockery of Spock. To remove him from the command chair. From Starfleet. As a means to brings as many Vulcans home as possible. As some petty assault against Spock’s bispecies heritage. For some other reason McCoy could not fathom. This man drove Jim to cruelty.

This time, McCoy’s order was not blurted from shock, but given in a steady tone, cold and deliberate.

“Get out.”


End file.
